


Overheated

by HYPERFocused



Category: due South
Genre: Car Sex, Leather, M/M, Masturbation, Summer, Voyeurism, Wool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-04 18:00:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1788025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HYPERFocused/pseuds/HYPERFocused
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser at attention in his red serge, has Ray surging, red, and oh so attentive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overheated

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Written 7/16/2007 Part of Oxoneinsis' 4th porn battle, using all the DS F/K prompts: leather, stakeout, itch, summer, traditional

It's the dog days of summer: too hot for the protection of leather, and even Ray's bracelet feels like it's burning his skin. Sweat trickles down the back of his neck, and he itches all the way down his spine. It doesn't matter, he was twitchy, anyway.

Has been for a while now, as long as he's been on this private stakeout, the day after the real one that got him an arm full of thread. Nothing official, he's supposed to be home resting from his night at the hospital: nasty gash on his arm, dirty knife from a street brawl they'd broken up before anyone was killed. Wasn't even the case they were expecting, dealers a no-show, or bad information. He's not sure which.

He's resting, yeah, sort of, even if he isn't home in bed. Nothing to do there, and he's too antsy to sleep anyway. with a prescription for something that would make him fuzzy and unreal feeling if he decided to take it. He doesn't, but he takes the offered day off, anyway.

Fraser doesn't have the luxury. The ice queen brings him in despite his protests that Ray needs him. "He's a grown man, perfectly capable of tending to his own minor wound," she tells him. That's true. Ray can handle himself just fine.

He drives one handed to the Consulate, or at least nearly there. Finds an alley spot close enough to watch Fraser on door duty, but far enough away (he hopes) to be out of his line of sight. Slice of pepperoni and the coldest Coke -- crushed ice, not cubed -- from his second favorite little dive, on the seat beside him. He can be careful when he wants to be. Anyway, it's not just pizza grease with the potential to get out of control and messy, it's Ray himself. But that's what the extra napkins are for.

 

Fraser takes it all on himself, like usual. Needless guilt, as if it's his fault he and Ray are both doing their jobs, and consequences ensued, as they often do. "I should have seen it sooner." Makeshift bandage (almost as good with Fraser's expert hands applying the pressure). Ray won't go to the hospital right away, not til the perp's handled, and Fraser's not his usual solicitous self (to the "miscreants") when it comes to Ray getting injured, even if the fighters were testosterone happy teenagers. and are probably very sorry now.

Ray is sorry, too. It's not just that the arm hurts like a son-of-a-bitch. It's that he's got some pretty important uses for it in mind right now, what with Fraser looking the way he does, all serious and perfect, except for the tendrils of damp heat beginning to curl his hair, and Ray doesn't work well one handed.

He's gonna have to, though, because he's imagining Fraser and his perfect posture, traditional garb soaking up the sun, but Fraser wouldn't dream of changing or complaining. He'd still be all 'Thank you kindly" and "How might I be of service?" Ray thumbs open his jeans surreptitiously, and reaches in, feeling skin and denim at once. Just a small stroke at first, his mind's eye seeing Fraser transported to his apartment. There he'd be. just standing in front of Ray, dick jutting out from the red, hot serge, a little wet already even before Ray reaches for it.

But that's not going to happen any time soon, he doesn't think. Fraser will come home and find Ray there, back from an adventure he won't mention; none the worse for wearing out his good hand jacking off on the hot black leather of a classic automobile, only a pizza box for cover, and napkins for cleanup.

He grips his own cock in imitation, different rhythm than he's used to, and that almost makes it feel like it's Fraser's hand instead, or even his on Fraser. Hot, slick, sweaty summer stroking, sure and steady 'til he glances up to see Fraser _looking_ at him, eyes wide with recognition, except no, he can't have seen. It's just Fraser being Fraser, assessing his surroundings for stuff he ought to know.

 

Ray comes thinking about what it would be like doing all the servicing, hands and mouth, whatever Fraser needs. Learning Fraser's rhythms, until he's no longer polite, no more apologizing for shit he can't control, but just going for it. Asking for -- no, _demanding_ what he wants. It'd be even hotter than red wool -- or black leather -- in July.


End file.
